


inked

by jitters



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alcohol, F/F, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 00:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17355521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jitters/pseuds/jitters
Summary: Sora fears nothing but fear itself. And love, maybe, but Riku doesn't need to know that. [Punk AU]





	inked

**Author's Note:**

> the namixi in here is really minor, but i wanted to tag it in case anyone wants to avoid it ♪ note that while there is absolutely no explicit sexual content in here, the characters are intended to be in their 20s and there are vague *suggestions* of such content.

Riku is on his fifth tattoo.  
  
Right at his side as always, Namine is spinning around in her chair, dreamily muttering about some girl she’s fallen head-over-heels for. Again. Somehow, it’s been exactly like this every time, and Riku would claim deja vu if he weren’t so well-versed in how easily lovestruck Namine is every time she meets a new cute girl. He can’t blame her really; he may not have the same kind of interest in girls as she does, but he knows a cute one when he sees one and he can at least say this: Namine has good taste.

It would be a lot easier to support her endeavors if it didn’t happen so often, and Riku has taken to nodding along with everything she says, indulging her whimsical daydreams, but mostly because they’re a great distraction from the needle driving ink onto his arm.

“Did you at least catch her name this time?” Riku teases, flashing Namine a tight-mouthed, cheeky grin and feeling a deserved sense of satisfaction when she throws back a shocked gasp.

“Of course I did!” Namine pouts when she stops her stool from spinning. “She’s not even a stranger this time. We have _connections_. I could even see her again, whenever I want to!”

“So are you going to?” Riku raises an eyebrow.

Namine bites her lip and kicks her chair around halfway so her back is to him. “Maybe...”

“Oh come on, you’re never going to get a girlfriend at this rate. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you didn’t even want one.”

“What about you then?” Eyebrows narrowed, Namine stands and steps closer, for the first time acknowledging the black-haired man inking Riku’s arm, planting a hand on his shoulder and nodding her head towards him. “I haven’t seen you bring a guy home since the two of you hooked up.”

“Shut it,” The tattoo artist spits, turning towards Namine and pulling the toothpick from his mouth, pointing it at her. “You know I don’t like to be addressed when I’m working.”

Namine snickers and nods, letting him back to it, biting her lip as her eyes rest back on Riku’s. She raises her eyebrows, and he eyes the needle. “You promised you’d never mention that again.”

“My lips are sealed,” she mimes along with her statement, although it somewhat defeats the point to be talking as she does so. “But still...you haven’t dated anyone in so long. Aren’t you lonely?”

Riku shrugs his free arm. “Why? I’m not looking. I’ve got friends.” He pauses, glancing between the two of them. “Even if you’re nosy and Vanitas is kind of an ass.”

“Shut up or I’ll draw a dick on your arm,” Vanitas mumbles, but he doesn’t look up from his job.

It’s not worth the risk anyway. Vanitas’ threats can become real too easily for Riku to play with that fire. He changes the subject, “How did you meet this girl anyway?”

Namine’s eyes light up. “She’s in a band! The lead singer is the brother of Vanitas’...what did you say he was? Friends with benefits?”

Vanitas looks up and scoffs. “That would imply we were friends. I said we were fuckbuddies.”

“Right...” Namine cringes a little at his wording, but waves him back to his work. “Anyway, their band was playing at a party we were at and she’s _so cool_ , Riku. I only got to talk to her for a second but she said I should come see the band perform again. So...” She steps closer, pressing her palms together and bending over slightly to assume the perfect begging position. “Please come to the party with me!”  
  
“Me?” Riku looks between his friends. Vanitas isn’t paying attention anymore. “Why me? You know I don’t really do parties, and you always go to those things with Vanitas. I thought that was your thing.”

“Working,” Vanitas mumbles, eyes narrowing on Riku’s bicep where he’s applying the finishing touches.

“And you can’t go alone?” Riku looks back up at her pleading face, where she’s exaggerating a quivering bottom lip, and Riku sighs. “Fine, I don’t really want you at one of those things alone anyway.”

“Thank you thank you thank you Riku!” Namine throws her arms around him, and Vanitas is just in time to pull his needle away before she risks any damaging marks on Riku’s skin.

“I was done anyway,” Vanitas tsk’s. Once his friend lets go of him, Riku pulls his arm free, admiring the detailed work of the floral print up his arm.

“When is this party?” Riku asks, fingers grazing over one of his older tattoos, reminiscent.

Namine goes quiet, visibly fighting away the grin on her face. “Tonight.”

“Come on,” Riku whines, and even he thinks he sounds like a bummer. “You waited until the last minute to tell me so I wouldn’t have a choice, didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” She innocently smiles. “But you’re also clearly the best friend ever, so of course you’d look out for me, right?” She bats her eyelashes, and Riku shakes his head.

“You’re really lucky you’re cute,” he laughs. She does too.

 

 

 

It’s not as if Riku hates fun. Parties have just never been his thing. He’d much rather be in one of his friends’ basements listening to music in the company of people he likes, or at a proper concert with the music meant to be the focus. Bands playing at parties and events make it difficult to pay attention to either one.

But he really does love Namine, like he would a sister, and if his presence will help her win the girl of her dreams of this month, it’s the least he can do to play chaperone. If the music’s good, that’s only a bonus.

Riku knows he made the right decision when Namine drags him to an abandoned warehouse at the edge of town, and even the thought of leaving her here without someone to keep an eye on her makes his stomach nervous. As soon as he steps off his motorcycle, he wraps a protective arm around her.

“Riku, don’t!” Namine pulls away, cheeks flushed. “Sorry. I just don’t want anyone thinking we’re _together_. Neither one of us needs any more challenges.”

Riku has to laugh at that. It’s difficult to deny how long it’s been since he saw any success a sexual or romantic context, and he’s always found meaningless sex to be a disappointment anyway. He may not be looking for anyone, but it’s not as if he wants to shut out the opportunity.

Giving them both the openings they need, Riku trails just behind Namine instead, though he does reach out to touch her arm before they enter.

“If things get too wild, find me. You know I won’t let anyone get away with messing with you.”

Namine smiles and pats his hand, holding it in both of hers and squeezing it before pushing it back towards him. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. Hanging out with Vanitas gives me a certain reputation that actually works in my favor in places like this.”

Riku concedes, and lets Namine run ahead towards where he can hear the band starting up, keeping his eyes on her until he sees her land at the lip of the stage, confident at least that not much could happen right in front of the members.

There’s no proper bar, but Riku follows a familiar sound through a hoard of drunk party-goers to where he finds the most massive tower of beer he’s ever seen, and what appears to be an empty mixologist’s station and a ‘Back in 10 minutes’ sign he’s certain has been there a lot longer than that. Doesn’t seem like anyone’s actually monitoring the alcohol whatsoever, and Riku shrugs, stepping behind the counter and snagging a bottle of rum for himself. After he opens it and takes a satisfying sip, hw finds himself standing alone in the middle of a room with nothing but alcohol and very drunk individuals falling all over each other. He shoves a hand in his leather jacket and tries to act much cooler than he feels, sauntering back to the main room where a larger crowd has gathered around the band, and Namine is not shying away from jumping like crazy in the front row. He can always spot her bright blonde hair in a crowd.

Riku himself isn’t quite that type, but the music isn’t bad, so he comfortably rests himself against the wall in the back and drinks the songs away, peacefully bobbing his head instead of his entire body like so many of the others here, but he’s used to that.

When the band stops to take a break, Riku looks up for the first time, and when he goes to take a drink finds his bottle empty already. How many songs have actually passed, he isn’t sure at this point, but he hasn’t found anything more interesting than getting drunk against a wall yet, so he might as well keep trying.

After making his way back to the mountain of alcohol, Riku sneaks an unattended bottle of fruity flavored vodka this time, crashing on the nearest empty (and very worn) couch. A few heavy sips later, he leans his head back and closes his eyes, now kind of wishing the band was still playing so he had something to listen to.

“Now that’s a man who can hold his liquor!” A voice laughs, and when Riku lifts his head, a slender brown-haired man with a piercing through his septum flops down on the couch next to him, close enough that when Riku locks eyes with him, he sees the deepest, bluest eyes he’s ever had the chance to lay his own on. That might be the alcohol talking though.

He takes another sip and shrugs. “It’s flavored, don’t give me too much credit.”

“Oh?” The man raises his eyebrows and shifts his body even closer, taking the bottle from Riku’s hands and taking a sip of his own.

Normally Riku would never surrender a drink so easily, especially to a complete stranger, but something about the curve of his guy’s neck and the earnest curiosity in his voice has Riku trusting him. Yeah, it’s definitely trust. Probably. Mystery Man hums as the drink slides down his throat, and Riku knows that’s what’s happening because he can’t keep his eyes off that exact process, watching where it starts at his lips and following down the curve of his neck when he swallows and his Adam’s apple bobs.

“Pretty good,” he finally says. “But it’s still vodka, so I reserve the right to remain impressed.”

Riku snorts, unintentionally of course, and he pushes at his nose with his hand as if to brush off a sneeze. “You’re much easier to impress than my friends then.”

Blue-Eyes gives Riku a long, probing gaze, and then leans his back fully against the couch so he’s facing forward, but his shoulder touches Riku’s, and neither of them do anything to fix it. “I guess I’ll just have to be your friend then. Then you can’t say that anymore.”

Pulling his eyes away, Riku looks forward too and reaches for the vodka without looking, clumsily grabbing at this guy’s hand before he ends up with a grip on the bottle and pulls it back, taking the biggest swig he’s taken all night. Maybe in his whole life. “Cool,” he says.

“I’m Sora,” the guy says, holding out a hand for Riku to shake, and Riku does with little hesitation, trying not to make it how obvious he’s staring at everything in his line of sight. Sora’s jeans are ripped to shreds, but in the authentic way, where Riku’s pretty sure he’s worn them to hell and back, and each peek at his skin through the slits and holes are a tease of a life experience he made a story out of. His arms are tan but thin, like he’s outside a lot but not for exercise, and the way his shirt loosely hangs off his body in contrast to his fitted pants heightens Riku’s curiosity for what’s hiding underneath. His eyes make his way back to that _neck_ , and those _eyes_ , and Riku’s attempts to stare at neither land him in an even more dangerous place between, hovering over his lips and wondering in his drunken stupor how they taste. “Hello?”

Riku shakes his head free of nonsense when he’s called back to reality, and laughs it off. “Riku,” he shares, and pulls back his hand from the longest and most intense handshake he’s ever given. “Are you a fan of, uh...” Fuck, he forgot to get their name. “The band?”

Sora raises both eyebrows at him, and Riku is too tipsy to register him stifling a laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. Guessing you’re not?”

Riku swiftly turns his body sideways to face Sora, craning his neck. “Honestly I don’t know ‘em. My friend brought me because she has a crush on some girl in the band.”

“Xion?” Sora perks up, curious and if his smile is anything to go by, overjoyed by this revelation. His smile might be even brighter than his eyes.

“If that’s the only girl, yeah,” Riku shrugs. “But I have to say, they’re pretty good. I didn’t get close enough to see anything but all it takes is a good sound, and they’ve got it.”

Sora’s toothy smile changes to a closed-mouth one, but no less joy in it, and Riku could easily lose himself in it, until Sora’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and after reading his messages, he stands up, shoulders slumped. “Well, Riku,” his voice sings in Riku’s ears. “I have to go meet some friends. When the band starts back up you should try getting a closer look.”

Riku wants to stop him from leaving, but he has no excuse to do so that makes sense, and doesn’t make him seem desperate, even with alcohol soaking his conscience. Sure, parts of him are awake that haven’t been in months, maybe years at this point, but there’s no way to sound anything but creepy when you tell a stranger you’re not done staring at them and kinda want to know what kissing them would feel like.

Even if that is exactly what he’s thinking.

But Riku keeps his cool, and takes Sora’s advice, thinking the best chance of spotting him again is hanging in the crowd and knowing that he should make sure Namine isn’t flinging herself on stage anyway.

He could text her, but Riku doesn’t bother, downing the rest of the vodka and tossing the bottle before he slinks back into the main room and pushes his way through the crowd, all the way to the front where Namine hasn’t moved, her feet planted on the ground and her heels at the stage waiting for the band to return.

“Enjoying the show?” He asks, shoving both hands in his pockets and sidling up next to her.

“Riku!” She beams, face reddened but he’s pretty sure it’s not from any alcohol. “I’m glad you joined me, I can’t wait to tell you all about them. The lead singer is this guy named Roxas, he’s the one whose brother is...” She clears her throat. “ _Involved_ with Van.”

Riku snickers, pulling his hands from his pockets and turning to face the stage along with her as the group comes back out.

“Riku, there she is!” Namine unconsciously grabs his arm out of excitement, pointing to a black-haired girl with piercings all the way up her ear who seats herself behind the drums, giving Namine a nod as she spins one of the sticks between her fingers. “Xion...isn’t she cool?”

Riku nods, not wanting to be dismissive but finding his thoughts stuck somewhere else.

“Oh, and the third one on guitar is--”

“Sora.” Riku’s arms drop and he takes in a deep breath, catching eyes with Sora’s vibrant blues and heart feeling a punch when Sora waves at him.”

“You know him?” Namine eyes him with intrigue. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’ll...” Riku’s eyes travel along Sora’s fingers, plucking his strings with dexterity Riku can only dream of. In more ways than one. “I’ll explain later.”

Namine chuckles at his side, but she’s soon too distracted by a band member of her own to press further, and Riku’s mind has wandered so far he wouldn’t hear her even if she tried.

He had meant it, when he said he liked their music. He could have enjoyed this show in earnest, especially next to his best friend who’s having the time of her life, but every sound that goes in Riku’s ear dissipates before he can register it, mind space all taken up by the images flashing before his eyes and how desperately Riku wants to commit them to memory despite the alcohol fighting to black them out.

Sora shines on stage, even in a dingy industrial warehouse, and Riku would swear the spotlight is made for him. Most people probably say that about the lead singer, but Riku can’t tear his eyes away, can’t bring himself to miss even a second of Sora’s performance. When they’re approaching their final number, that always ‘wakes the crowd up’ as Namine explains in his ear, Riku’s vibe changes, though. He doesn’t know any song names, but this one has Sora jumping around the stage and banging his head and strumming harder than any other song. He’ll make sure to remember this one, especially with how torn he is, between noticing how cute Sora looks when he’s having this much fun, and trying _not_ to notice how sweaty he’s also getting, with the stage lights beating down on him during such exertion.

It makes Riku sweat too.

 

 

When the show comes to an end, Sora’s eyes find Riku just as easily as Riku’s had found him during, and Riku stares up without hearing a word Roxas is saying. Sora doesn’t seem to be listening either, throwing Riku finger guns and attempting a wink he seems either incapable of or too tired to make work. _God, he’s charming too?_

Namine breaks Riku’s smitten trance with an elbow to his side, showing him a text on her phone from Vanitas. “Our brilliant roommate forgot his key and is locked out of the apartment. Again.”

Riku looks up at Sora with a longing gaze, and Sora smiles, approaching him as the crowd begins to dissipate. “But...”

“We have to go,” Namine frowns, just as disappointed for her own reasons.

“Just a minute,” Riku pats her hand, shoving her phone out of view and approaching Sora to meet him halfway, rubbing his sweaty hands on his pants. “Sorry I can’t stick around,” Riku groans. “There’s a problem with my roommate and I--”

“It’s fine,” Sora shakes his head, and his smile seems earnest enough, though Riku doesn’t have much time to consider otherwise; Sora avoids the idea of personal space altogether and crouches down to meet Riku’s eye line, reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out Riku’s phone. “It’d be cool to see you at another show sometime,” he says, as he types something into it and tosses the phone back into Riku’s hands.

He’s still smiling when Namine comes to physically pull Riku away and drag him out of there.

 

 

 

He’s never hated Vanitas so much, as he shoves his key in the door and similarly shoves Vanitas inside when he opens it, hurling his key so it strikes Vanitas in the shoulder as he collapses on the couch in their shared living room.

“The hell’s your problem?!” Vanitas hollers and rubbing his inevitable bruise. “It was an accident, I’ll get a new key.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Riku grumbles, but he’s already sliding out of his jacket and staring at his phone, wondering what exactly he should be doing with this new phone number and whether it’s even real.

“Don’t take it personally,” Namine chuckles, properly hanging up her coat and doing the same with Riku’s after he’d thrown it to the floor. “He’s just disappointed because you interrupted his flirting.”

“I wasn’t flirting,” Riku insists, but his cheeks flush pink. He’s too old for this.

“He was,” Namine whispers loudly enough for him to hear. “Lucky for you Van, the other party was even more flirtatious than our Riku so he still left with a phone number.”

“Who’s the guy?” Vanitas snoops, trying to get a peek at Riku’s phone but gaining nothing more than a shove from Riku’s much stronger arms. “Come on, not even a name?”

“Sora!” Namine remarks, apparently eager to make Riku see the heights of his embarrassment. “Van, maybe you should go after Roxas so we each have one band member for ourselves.” She giggles to herself.

“Pass,” Vanitas rubs the top of her head. “I don’t care how hot he is, Roxas is even more insufferable than Ventus.”

“You sure you’re in a position to be saying that?” Riku smirks, rolling over onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow. “I don’t think I could even count the number of people who’d probably describe you the same way.”

“Whatever,” Vanitas yawns, collapsing on the couch with his back against the cushion so his legs fall over Riku’s. “You gonna get all gooey over Sora now? Must’ve been some flirting if you’re even talking about him still. I was starting to think you were celibate.”

“You wish,” Riku retorts meaninglessly, rolling onto his back and attempting to shove Vanitas’ legs off of him. “How do you know him anyway?”

“I’ve...explored his body,” Vanitas grins, smug, and the surprise on Riku’s face quickly turns to one of disgust. Vanitas snorts, deliberate. “Relax, I did his tattoos. Piercings too.”

“What a relief--” Riku pulls his legs out from underneath his friend’s. “Not something I want to have shared with you.”

“Aw, you mad I know where your sensitive spots are?” Vanitas teases, and Riku flinches out of his grip and onto his feet the instant Vanitas reaches to touch him to punctuate the joke. “Just as sensitive on the inside, sheesh.”

“You should stop letting your libido control you,” Riku laughs, throwing a pillow at Vanitas’ face and looking right back to his phone, hovering over Sora’s number with such intent that he forgets to say goodnight altogether and disappears into his room without saying another word.

 

 

 

He’s never sent a first text before. Everyone else he’s even tried being intimate with has been a friend, or at least an acquaintance; he’s never had to start so _fresh._ Even with their undeniable chemistry – Riku would swear to it – he can’t just dive right into describing how he kept thinking about kissing Sora the whole night instead of listening to his music like he was supposed to.

It should be easy, but it’s three in the morning and Riku is staring at an empty text box trying to figure out the best way to make it clear he’s flirting without crossing any lines too fast.

 

 _\----- Help, I’ve fallen into your eyes and can’t get up._  
  
Riku stares at the text, curses himself out loud, and deletes it.

 

_\----- Hey. It’s Riku._

That’s too far back. He deletes that too.

 

 _\----- Sorry I made an idiot of myself tonight. I’m not good at flirting.  
  
_Riku pauses. Honesty is sexy, right? Frankly he’s far too deep into his head about this to keep thinking anymore, so he calls that good enough and hits send.  
  
_riku?! -----_

 

The reply comes so quickly, the chirp takes him by surprise and he drops his phone on his face.

 

 _\----- ouhrgr_  
  
????? -----  
  
\----- Sorry. Yeah it’s me. You were really good tonight.  
  
_so you were flirting with me_ \-----  
  
Riku stills, laughing to himself and letting the pressure release from his shoulders, the bright light from his phone suddenly a welcome sight despite the strain it’s putting on his eyes on the cusp of his future hangover.

 

 _\----- I can take it back if you want._  
  
_please dont!! even if ur bad at it_ \-----  
  
Riku isn’t sure if that’s an agreement or a hypothetical, but frankly he doesn’t care. His stomach has butterflies for the first time in longer than he can remember, and he’s never been so eager to make them worse.

 

 _\----- When’s your next show?_  
  
_in 2 days. pls come. were selling cds too_ \-----

 

_\------ Sure. I’ll buy one._

 

_theres a discount for hot guys with silver hair in leather jackets too -----_

 

_\----- Do you mean me?_

 

_yeah i was looking for an excuse to call you hot but it doesnt work if you dont get it -----_

 

Riku smacks himself in the face this time, letting his arm fall over his eyes. It makes no sense for this to be making him feel so _much_ , he’s not a kid and he just met this guy but every crucial point in his body has formed an attachment he already knows he won’t be able to break. Whatever the adult version of a crush is, he’s got it and he feels like an idiot again.

 

_\----- You don’t need an excuse._

 

An absolute, out-of-his-mind idiot.

 

_\----- If it helps I think you’re hot too._

 

Who double-texts.

 

_well are you gonna do anything about it -----_

 

Riku stiffens at that one, holding his breath.

 

_\----- I mean I want to…_

 

 _so?? ---_  
  
  
He stares up at his ceiling and wonders how the hell this is even happening to him.

 

_\----- So send me the details for the show and I’ll be there. ;-)_

 

Riku doesn’t normally use emojis. But then again, he doesn’t normally flirt with people through text. Sora doesn’t have to know he’s actually got goosebumps and that he wouldn’t be nearly as cool about it if he had this conversation in person instead.

Sora sends back a laughing emoji and an address, date, and time, and Riku thanks the blessed alcohol for knocking him out soon after, because there’s no way in hell his brain would’ve let him sleep otherwise.

 

 

 

All at the same time, two days passes for Riku in both a million years and a few seconds; the first day had gone by so quickly, with a hangover to sleep off through most of it, but the second seems to drag on forever, with Riku getting ready several hours before leaving and changing his outfit four times – his average is 0. Suddenly it matters, like if he wears something stupid Sora won’t think he’s hot anymore. That’s already enough to wrap his mind around, that Sora admitted attraction so easily, but living up to it now seems more important than it ever has before. Usually, Riku just lets people take what they get. That’s worked just fine until now.

But something about Sora makes Riku adamant to not let this opportunity slip through his fingers.

In the end he ends up in an outfit nearly identical to the one Sora had last seen him in; it’s the same jacket, with black jeans instead of blue, and a plain t-shirt underneath. It couldn’t be more boring. Riku’s always believed there’s safety in boring though. Boring got a cute guy to flirt with him.

 

 

 

When Riku arrives at the location, he almost thinks he’s lost. Unlike the previous night, it’s an actual venue, proper sound equipment and bar and everything. Even the merch table looks legitimate, and for a second Riku wonders if he’s inviting himself into another band’s space without permission. And he has no way to check, because he forgot to ask the name of the damn band.

The crashing of cymbals shakes him, and when he catches sight of Xion behind the drum set, he calms. At least he knows he’s in the right place, even if he still feels _out of_ place.

The crowd this time is less rowdy, but far more attentive to make up for it, and only in pressing through the crowd does Riku notice half of them are wearing t-shirts with the same symbol that’s on every instrument and piece of equipment on the stage. He may have miscalculated something.

It isn’t until Sora and Roxas then come on stage that Riku pulls his attention from the crowd, unable to sneak to the front with these passionate fans very defensive of the places they managed to get from getting in line early, but at least he’s close enough to see.

Sora’s wearing almost the exact same outfit as before too – the only difference is he’s now in what Riku has since gathered is an official band t-shirt, and a heavy necklace around his neck, only bringing Riku’s gaze to it more quickly than his bare skin had previously.

Riku knows how the stage lights work; the crowd past the first couple of rows will all be whited out in Sora’s view, so he has no chance of being spotted like this, and he finds a certain freedom in being able to blatantly stare at Sora the entire time and bounce along to the music without Sora catching him in the act.

 

 

 

By the end of this show, Riku has a new respect for the band; the crowd’s cheers celebrated their every note, and he ended up putting so much energy into getting into the hype of the crowd that it’s not just the band members who are sweating; Riku is outright soaked under his jacket, and if it weren’t a deliberate fashion choice, he would’ve ditched it several songs ago.

When the stage empties and the crowd around him begins to clear, Riku texts Sora with a sober mind.

 

_\----- Great show. Can I see you?_

_dgfljfdk of course brb go to the stage -----_  
  
  
Riku raises an eyebrow at Sora’s text but follows instructions, leaning against the barrier in front of the stage, earning him a snide look from a security guard, but Sora is quick to his rescue.

“He’s with me!” Sora says, and reaches for Riku’s hand, pushing the barrier open and dragging him up the stairs and backstage. “You actually came.”

“Told you I would,” Riku shrugs, feeling an intense discomfort as his wet shirt raises against his skin and adds the leather into the mix. He winces.

“You okay?” Sora asks, voice softer than what Riku has gotten used to in the few brief verbal interactions they’ve had.

“What can I say, I worked up a sweat.”

“Good!” Sora looks thrilled by that, his bright energy a tantalizing contrast to the image his tattoos, piercings, and clothing give him. “Come cool down in the green room. We were the last act to use the place tonight so we can hang out as long as we want.”

Curious, Riku follows him back there, and Sora leads him to a disappointingly plain rest area with a few couches, a mini-fridge, and a short wall of mirrors and chairs to use as a vanity.

“Guys, this is Riku,” He introduces him, striding past Roxas and Xion into the room and leaving Riku to sit wherever he pleases.

“The guy you can’t shut up about?” Roxas deadpans, using his skateboard as a seat on the floor in a rather unflattering squatting position. “Looks pretty plain to me.” Riku may see where Vanitas was coming from.  
  
“Sorry,” Sora laughs awkwardly. “My best friend has a little bit of an attitude problem.”

“We have that in common,” Riku muses, and finds himself a seat on the couch furthest from the door.

“It’s nice to meet you, Riku!” Xion calls from a beanbag chair on the floor, in a voice shockingly soft for a drummer.

“You too,” he leans back, legs spread comfortably apart, but Sora remains standing, antsy on his feet like he’s still waiting for something. Riku smiles at her directly, “You’re the one _my_ best friend won’t stop talking about.”

Xion sits up straight and frantically tucks her hair behind her ears. “You mean Namine? Are they good things? Can you put in a good word for me?”

Riku laughs softly and shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s necessary. Whatever you did to her, you’ve got her wrapped around your finger. I’d call her if I were you.”

Looking bewildered at first, Xion’s eyes glance between her two bandmates, anticipating some sort of retort, but they both look back at her with as much anticipation. “Okay, thanks Riku,” she laughs, and pushes herself up onto her feet, exiting without explanation.

Sora and Roxas share an amused, knowing look, and Riku wonders if he’s a third wheel for a moment, but it’s then that he finally finds a seat next to Riku on the couch, more space between them now than there had been the last time they’d sat together but not enough to make a point of changing it. “You can take your jacket off,” Sora says with his body angled towards Riku. “You must be really warm, right?”

Normally Riku would tease or try to say he’s fine, but he can’t play it off how uncomfortable he is soaking through his clothes, and he’s all to eager to shred his extra layer, laying his jacket over the arm of the couch and rolling up his short sleeves against his shoulders. The room switches from a mysterious silence to Roxas’ hearty laughter echoing through the room, and both Riku and Sora jerk their heads up to investigate it.

“What’s so funny?” Sora asks, and in a strange note from Riku’s point of view, his voice shakes a little.

“God, Sora, could you be any gayer?” Roxas jeers, wiping a fake tear from his eye to exaggerate his laughter, and he eyes Riku. “You should’ve seen the way his eyes bugged out of his head when he saw your arms just now.”

Riku is overcome with embarrassment and amusement as equally high levels, but both of them have the same tick within him and he lets out a choked laugh, quickly covering his mouth as Sora clenches his fist and shoots up onto his feet, grabbing Roxas by his shirt and dragging him towards the door. “Bye!” he says cheerfully, forcing a matching smile as he shoves Roxas out and locks the door behind him. “Sorry about him.”

“It’s fine,” Riku shakes his head, feeling all the weight of his shoulders gone now that the tension’s been broken, and patting the seat next to him, eager for Sora to return. “I actually thought it was really cute.”

“Roxas?!”

“No, you,” Riku says it plainly, meeting Sora’s eye long enough to get a smile out of him, but he still can’t bring himself to stare too long.

Sora’s gaze falters too, and after a moment of silence he shifts his body closer. “Nice ink. Can I…?” Riku nods, and Sora tenderly presses fingers to Riku’s arm, fingertips ghosting over the lines of the design. “Very cool. Does it mean anything?”

“Not really,” Riku angles out his arm for Sora to get a better look. “My best friends – one of them likes to draw and the other does tattoos so I let them use my body for their designs and handiwork.”

“You must really trust your friends,” Sora laughs, turning Riku’s arm over in his hand and examining the inside. “All my tattoos are really personal to me on my own. I’d be scared to get one with a connection to another person because it would stink to have that permanent reminder when they’re not in my life anymore.”

“You don’t even have one of your band’s logo?” Riku’s voice softens.

Sora shakes his head, so subtle Riku would miss if it if he weren’t looking. “Everyone leaves eventually.”

His words feel heavy, and the weight hangs between them, like Sora just ripped off several layers of intimacy instead of removing one at a time, and Riku feels as if he understands something about Sora that not everyone gets the chance to. Riku wants to add some sort of reassurance, but as soon as he opens his lips, Sora’s brandishing a forced happy smile again.

“But anyway, heh,” Sora forces still. “What about you? All these tattoos and no piercings?”

“That’s totally different!” Riku leans back, letting Sora steer the intimacy ship for now, not wanting to push after being given such a surprise sneak preview. “It’s one thing to have a needle on me, it’s another to imagine it being shoved right through me.”

“That’s silly!” Sora laughs, pressure relieved in appreciation for Riku’s willingness to follow his boundaries, and Riku sees the same twinkle in his eye that he saw from the audience. “Besides, piercings don’t even have to be permanent if you don’t want them to be. Unless you’re unnaturally stretching something, the holes will close right back up if you take it out.”

“I guess...” Riku concedes, but strains his voice, unconvinced.

“Look,” Sora shifts closer still, until their knees are touching and one of Sora’s hands rests on Riku’s arm, the other pointing into his own mouth. “I had a tongue piercing before and you can’t even tell now.” He opens it long enough for Riku to confirm there’s no sign of a hole anymore.

“Why’d you get rid of it?” Riku asks, a lift in his voice and an eyebrow to match. “Did it make kissing weird or something?”

“Oh no, the opposite,” Sora rubs his neck, bashful. “It’s weird to eat with it. I like food too much to sacrifice that being fun, and kissing is still plenty fun without it.”

“It sure is,” Riku says in an instinctively deep voice, something that bursts out of him without a thought ahead of time, but Sora shows no sign of discomfort, his hand pressing against Riku’s arm deliberately, his fingers tracing over his skin, following the curve of his muscle that in no way matches up with the shape of his tattoos.

The phone buzzing in Riku’s pocket feels like a sick joke.

Riku heaves a disgruntled sigh as he pulls his phone out and checks the message. Namine. Emergency. The weight feels a different kind of heavy as he slumps his shoulders and stuffs it back into his pocket. “My roommate needs me,” he breathes. “But I’d like to see another show.” Riku leans in, pressing a breathy kiss to Sora’s neck for his own self-satisfaction, and stands. “If you don’t mind.”

Sora visibly tenses, pulling a pillow onto his lap and frantically shaking his head. “Don’t mind. I’ll text you.”

Riku has never felt so smug.

 

 

 

Five shows later, Riku has seen five more performances, gone head-to-head with five more security guards, attended five after-show hangouts, and experienced the usual teasing from Sora’s bandmates a solid five more times. He doesn’t really mind that though, because by the end of what is then his seventh visit he’s feeling affection in their teasing and has a permanent backstage pass to use as he pleases. He might as well be one of them. He even gets lucky enough to meet their manager that time, a man nearly identical to Roxas but far nicer and with his life more well sorted out. It takes Riku very little to connect his nameless stories to Vanitas, but Riku keeps that known connection to himself.

As a small wink to his insider knowledge though, Riku does present Vanitas with a few CDs as a gift, which Vanitas accepts only because he’ll take anything that’s free.

By the time they’re in a routine, Namine has joined their regular endeavors, attached at Xion’s hip, their arms often seen around each other in their after-hours, and Namine permanently in the front row at every show, no matter how early she has to get there to make sure of it.

It isn’t until Namine and Xion make a habit of missing out on their group meetings to spend time alone, that it occurs to Riku: he and Sora never do that. In fact, it’s been a while now since they’ve been alone at all. Maybe there’s just no spare time for it, or maybe Sora isn’t sure how to ask them to leave him alone, or maybe he doesn’t want to exclude Roxas now that Xion’s spending all her time with her girlfriend. Riku can think of a few excuses.

They all fall apart when he surprises Sora backstage at a rehearsal, and neither his band members nor staff are anywhere to be found. Instead of happy, Sora looks stressed to see Riku alone with him in his dressing room, and Riku doesn’t like it.

“Are you uncomfortable around me?” He finally asks, crossing his arms when Sora hovers away from any comfortable position, just like he had their first time backstage together.

“Not at all,” Sora frowns, arms covering his body in a way that suggests the opposite.

“Then why are you avoiding being alone with me? You had to know I’d notice eventually...”

Sora drops his arms and clenches his fist, nodding to himself in acceptance of whatever’s going on in his head, and seats himself on the couch. “I don’t know if I can control myself around you,” he confesses, voice firm but eyes refusing to meet his.

“You mean you--”

“Other people act as a buffer,” Sora interrupts. “I’m not...you know, ripped like you, so I wouldn’t expect you to be into it.” He closes his eyes, shaking his thoughts off and scratching his head with annoyance. “But still I can’t stop thinking about kissing you and touching you and...so much worse.”

Riku blinks.

Sora blinks back, nervously scratching the ring in his septum. “Are you disappointed?”

Riku blinks some more. When Sora opens his mouth to speak this time, Riku closes in, climbing on top of Sora’s lap and kissing him fervently, with passion and heat and all the tension he’s been holding in while he’s spent every day and night thinking about the exact same things and waiting for Sora to make the first move.

What an idiot.

 

 

 

 

The next time they meet backstage, Sora is different.

He’s always been friendly, but for all the time he was holding himself back from touching Riku, they seem to have now opened a floodgate. Even in groups, Sora has a hand on Riku at all times, even if the only way he can get away with it is by holding his hand. Secretly, that’s actually Riku’s favorite.

He can’t deny the fun of their alone time though, where Sora no longer fears taking charge and doesn’t hesitate to pin Riku to the wall or throw legs around him, or do whatever his body demands. Riku has no complaints about any of this.

But he has to admit, the best day comes after an especially fun _visit_ and they’ve both tired each other out to the point where neither wants to make their usual trip home. For the first time, they spend the night there, choosing to sleep together in the literal sense for a change. It’s Riku’s luck, that the couch is only big enough for one, and Sora falls asleep on his chest, where Riku can watch him sleep, and a sensation strikes him with an urge to brush the hair out of Sora’s face, unable to take his eyes off how peacefully he rests, how serene and outright _beautiful_ he looks in his slumber.

All at once it hits him. This isn’t just friendship, it isn’t just intrigue, it isn’t just fooling around. It isn’t just a crush; if it ever was, it stopped being that simple long ago now.

 

 

 

In the morning, Riku finds himself awake first, taking his fleeting chance to watch Sora sleep some more before he wakes up. Even when he finally does blink himself awake, yawning his warm morning breath onto Riku’s chest, Riku keeps staring. Sora stares back.

Eventually, Sora rests his chin on Riku’s chest, eyeing him closely and watching in a way that makes Riku feel as if he’s seeing right through him, like there’s not a thing in the world or in his head he could hide. He’s starting to think maybe he would like that after all.

“You know, this is nice. I’m gonna miss this.” Sora grins, eyes tired.

“Miss it?” Riku raises an eyebrow. “You going somewhere? Sure as hell I’m not.”

Sora chuckles, vibrating against Riku’s stomach and warming him all the way to the inside. “Our next show isn’t for a while. Two weeks I think. That’s a long time without...” Sora grasps for words. “This.”

“This,” Riku repeats. This thing they haven’t defined, that’s been nothing but texting and hangouts and backstage hookups and performance adrenaline.

Sora doesn’t seem like the type to need labels, and if Riku is perfectly honest with himself, he doesn’t either, but he does feel a sense of uncertainty he wishes he didn’t, and the suggestion that their rendezvous are so conditional only drives that point home. Not good enough.

“This...” Riku continues. “Doesn’t have to stay here, you know.” Sora sits up, leaning on an elbow and watching Riku closely. He waits. “I mean, it would be cool to see you anywhere, it doesn’t need to be at one of your shows.

“Really?” Sora questions, suspicious, pulling himself onto his feet and searching the floor for his clothes, dressing himself lazily with eyes shifting towards Riku every time he gets a chance.

“Yeah, really,” Riku slides himself onto the floor, shamelessly in his underwear as he approaches Sora’s side, interrupting his hurried attempt to tie his shoes. “You don’t like the sound of that?”

Sora’s face flushes, and he looks away. “It’s not that.” He goes quiet, and Riku watches, taking note of the way Sora bites his lip in frustrated thought, eyebrows knit and forehead wrinkled, until he takes a heavy sigh. Roughly, he shakes it off and turns back to Riku with a soft smile. “Okay. I hope I don’t make you regret it.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Riku laughs, stealing Sora’s move from when they first met and fishing his phone out of his pocket, typing his address into his maps app and bookmarking it. “You should come over sometime. Who knows, you might like how it feels to use a bed for once.”

Sora laughs heartily at that, leaning back to rest on his hands, but instead of the floor his palm rests on Riku’s hand instead. Riku doesn’t pull away, but Sora stares at it, chest rising and falling more quickly. “I dunno, I might get attached,” he says, voice lower; he’s not faking it either, his unconscious desire to hide seeping through, and Riku doesn’t want him to.

“Doesn’t sound so bad,” Riku shrugs, nonchalantly avoiding his true urge to beg for that very thing.

 

 

 

Sora ghosts him for a week, and Riku feels like a chump, but it’s nothing compared to how shaken he feels, when Sora hits him up with a sudden self-invitation, and Riku’s elation erases any hesitation logic may want to put on him.

It’s not as if Riku had been attached to his phone, refusing to let it out of his sight in anticipation of an eventual text, but he totally had been, and the thrill he experienced when Sora’s number lit up his phone as ‘Calling’ instead of as a message notification, was too much for him to ignore. The wait had seemed like nothing at all, all of a sudden.

“Can I come over?” Sora had asked, without any sort of greeting to preface it, and all Riku had to do was agree. Which he did, all too eagerly, and Sora chuckled softly into the phone before he hung up.

Now Riku waits in a different sort of anxiousness, feet tapping on the floor each time he has a still second, scrambling around his shared living space to straighten up anything his roommates had left around and shoving some of their belongings under the sofa without a care for any of the questionable messes Vanitas may have left there at some point.

He’s bustling about when the knock at the door comes, and all at once his brain hits him with too many questions for him to answer; whether Sora should be wined-and-dined before they get to their usual fun, or if he’ll end up pouncing the second Riku opens the door for him, and if they’ll have to hide if his roommates come home or if they can all get along and hang out together.

But Riku does open the door, and Sora smiles, and Riku doesn’t care about anything else.

“Hey,” he says coolly, earning him a chuckle from Sora who slides into the apartment with a duck under Riku’s arm, holding the door open for him. His guitar’s slung around his back and his hair is messy, and he’s dressed in sweatpants and a leather jacket of his own, instead of the usual concert-ready attire. Riku can’t take his eyes off him.

“What’s that for?” Riku gestures towards the guitar as he shuts the door behind him. Might as well lock it. Just to be safe.

“Just came from rehearsal,” Sora explains, kicking off his shoes at the door and helping himself to a spot on the sofa. “You?”

Sora rests his guitar on the floor, and on top of it he sets his jacket, Riku’s eyes transfixed as it falls from his shoulders and exposes his skin inch by inch. They’re just arms, nowhere near as muscular as his own as even he knows, but just like everything else about Sora, they’re charming in their own way, and Riku makes a mental note to thank whoever invented tank tops. “Uh, waiting for you?” Riku confesses honestly, and Sora’s eyes open wide.

“Really?” Sora asks, and Riku shrugs. “I guess I should’ve probably come sooner.”

“It’s fine, you’re here now,” says Riku, taking a seat next to Sora on the opposite end of the sofa, his legs resting comfortably and taking up much of the space between them. “What made you change your mind?”

Sora’s happy demeanor drops for a moment, consideration written across his face and his arms falling to his lap. “I just wanted to see you,” he mutters, and after only a brief pause, dons a devious grin and pulls his legs up onto the sofa, moving on his hands and knees and slowly moving himself up Riku’s legs to his chest. “Miss me?”

“Yeah,” Riku doesn’t even consider lying, fingers sliding into Sora’s hair and pulling him in for a kiss to keep himself from saying anything else, and Sora responds eagerly, letting his limbs fall loose and his body rest against him. Riku’s other hand finds Sora’s hip, thumb caressing the skin just above the elastic of his pants, and his lips move to Sora’s neck, breath warm as he wets his skin.

A satisfied noise escapes Sora, who then pulls back and holds up his hands, looking oddly determined and focused instead of anything else that might make more sense in this situation. “Hold on,” Sora mutters to himself, continuing breathily whispering to himself and his fingers tapping in the air as he reaches for his guitar, pulling it into his lap and readying his fingers to it.

He strums out a quick melody that Riku doesn’t recognize, and Sora’s face lights up, biting his lip as he reaches into his pocket for a pen and scribbles something down on his forearm. Riku can’t read music himself, but he’s pretty sure he can guess the scrambled letters from his view represent whatever he just played.

“Assuming you’re not getting that tattooed on your skin,” Riku laughs. “Wouldn’t it be better to type that into your phone instead of having to wash that off later?”

Sora shakes his head, reading the notes over again and humming them to himself before he tosses his pen aside, grinning. “Takes too long,” he explains. “It’s like your dreams you know, the longer you think about it without writing it down, the easier it is to forget them.”

“So,” Riku shifts close, fingers curiously strumming against the neck of Sora’s guitar. Something about it feels dangerous to touch but intensely tantalizing at the same time. “What was that?” He means more than just the melody.

“Oh, uh...” Sora’s face flushes, and his fingers curl against the top of his instrument. “Don’t laugh, okay?” Riku nods. “Sometimes when you touch me I get...inspired. I don’t know how it works. I usually just wait until you leave or fall asleep to write everything down. But this one was too good to risk losing.”

Riku stares at him, repeating, “You get inspired...when I touch you?”

“Is that weird?” Sora says, surprisingly bashful considering the things Riku’s seen him do on stage and off it.

“No, no,” Riku watches him, dazed and in awe. “Can I...hear some of it?”

“You sure?” Sora perks up, but Riku is insistent in his nodding, and Sora digs into a pocket in his jacket for a folded up sheet of paper where he’s written many more chords in the past, and he scribbles the new ones from his arm onto the back of it, before setting his fingers again and strumming them all together.

Everything sounds cool on an electric guitar, and Riku could never call himself a musical genius or anything, but there’s something tender about the melody Sora plays; that’s something Riku’s always noticed about music though, even as someone who can’t play any himself: emotional connection to a song will always have an impact on the sound.

There may not be any lyrics to accompany Sora’s song, so Riku closes his eyes, letting himself enjoy the melody for what it is without searching for anything else. It’s upbeat, but still the slowest song he’s ever heard Sora play, and the words that come to mind when Riku absorbs the sound are ‘hesitation’ and ‘freedom.’

When Sora finishes, Riku opens his eyes, and Sora’s smirking, not at him but at the wrinkled paper in front of him, smoothing out its edges before he defeats the point of that altogether and folds it back up, tucking it away.

“I like it,” Riku remarks softly. “I read over the information on your CD enough times to know you wrote a lot of the music, but I’ve never heard you play anything like that.”

“I never have before,” Sora clears his throat. “But every legendary album for even the hardest bands has a great ballad on it, right? I had never thought about writing one but I guess you give me what I need to do it.”

Riku stares at him, yet again, his blinks slow in contrast to his quickening heart rate, feeling like he could survive on those words alone for the rest of his life. When Sora looks back though, he seems unsure of what to say, sucking in his bottom lip and curiously alternating lifts to his eyebrows. It’s one of the cutest things Riku’s ever seen.  
  
Compelled by a force much stronger than himself, Riku moves in, taking Sora’s face in both his hands, his fingers gently stroking both cheeks, and he kisses him. It’s nothing like the kisses they’ve shared before; from the very first there’s been so much heat and passion, at times desperation and hunger and at others a distant longing. But this ones different. This kiss is soft and slow, full of affection and a warmth made from tenderness instead of lust. His lips stop before his eyes open, and even when they do, Riku’s hands remain cupping Sora’s face. “I have feelings for you,” he tells him.

Sora puts his guitar on the ground in silence, and presses fingers to both of Riku’s wrists, urging his hands away from his face. “Yeah...” he says, and Riku isn’t certain if he’s imagining the choke in his voice.

“You don’t seem happy about that,” Riku says flatly.

“Riku, we’re...” Sora pulls at his collar. “The band, we got signed by a major label.”

“Sora, that’s great!” Riku pats Sora’s knee, but his expression stays the same. “You don’t seem happy about that either.”

“They want to take us on tour right away.” Sora still isn’t smiling, but this time Riku waits before interrupting, unsettled by the unexpected emotion attached to what should be exciting revelations. Sora stiffens. “We’re not gonna be back for a long time, if we come back at all.”

Oh. Riku takes in a tight breath. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” Sora shifts closer, eyes pleading. “It’s been in the works for a while and I wanted to talk to you about it but at first I didn’t want to say anything before it was real in case it fell through, and then...I didn’t know _how_ to tell you.”

“Oh,” Riku says again. “So today…?”

“I wanted to see you at least once before I left.”

Riku’s shoulders slump. “You mean you were trying to say good-bye.”

Sora’s shoulders mirror him, and he rubs at his neck. “At least I’m out before you have a chance to get tired of me and leave on your own, right?” he jokes, forcing a smile and an uncomfortable laugh.

Riku doesn’t join him. “Why do you think I--” Riku starts, but is interrupted by the door opening, Namine barging in with Xion’s hand locked in hers and Vanitas trailing behind them with both hands in his pockets.

“Guess who forgot his key again,” Namine jeers, poking Vanitas in the stomach, but she tightens her lips when she sees Sora on the sofa with Riku. “Oh! Am I interrupting something? I was hoping we could all celebrate the good news together.”

“No,” Sora answers before Riku can, and Riku’s mouth is agape as Sora stands and grabs his jacket and guitar. “I was just leaving.”

Even Xion’s expression is one Riku can’t read at that moment, not that he’s trying too hard, watching Sora’s back as he pushes past them and slips on his shoes.

Sora turns back only once, looking Riku in the eye over his shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he says aloud, and it’s as genuine as Riku could imagine Sora being, but it does nothing to assuage any of the ill feelings filling Riku’s stomach.

 

 

 

The next seven days see Riku hiding in his room, blasting his loudest music when no one’s home and sleeping through the hours when anyone is. Namine’s worried and Vanitas is annoyed — Riku has always considered that to be Vanitas’ version of worry — but they’ll be there when he’s done and comforting his roommates isn’t on the top of his to-do list when he’s feeling like this anyway.  
  
The end of the seventh day, Riku’s door opens while he’s laying on his bed with headphones on to drown out the world, and he only takes them off because Vanitas throws a heavy jacket and a pair of boots at him, knocking them off his ears.

“What’s this for?” Riku asks flatly.

“C’mon, we’re going to the band’s last local show,” Vanitas crosses his arms.

Riku rolls onto his side, facing away form his roommate with a dismissive wave. “Pass.”

“I didn’t ask,” Vanitas spits, reaching for Riku’s arm and pulling him over. “At least come for Nami, you ass. She’s been with this girl as long as you were with that guy and this is a big deal for them. She’d want her best friend there.”

Riku groans. Vanitas is even more frustrating when he’s right. “Do I have to enjoy it?”

Vanitas shrugs. “None of my business.”

Riku almost laughs – almost – and pushes himself up onto his feet, hiding himself in his heavy boots and his loose jacket, and doing nothing more than run his fingers through his hair so it appears combed enough. No one to impress anymore, after all.

Vanitas goes for his version of dressing up, which is merely being fully clothed got a change and styling his hair by choice instead of letting his pillow do the work for him, and he drags Riku along with him, still forcing Riku to give him a ride on the back of his bike since he has no car of his own. He’d lose those keys too.

When they arrive, there’s no mistaking that Riku’s found himself at the same warehouse where they’d started this adventure of entangling themselves with the fate of a punk band. He’d be more bothered if he had any energy left to spare for it.

“Another secret event,” Vanitas explains when he hops off, sauntering inside and paying no mind to whether or not Riku is following him. “More exciting an announcement when it’s more intimate a setting y’know?”

Riku doesn’t know. What he does know, at least, is that it’s likely he’ll be able to drown the world out with alcohol just as easily this time, without ever having to see the band. That ought to make this night a hell of a lot easier to get through.

His absolute wimp of a conscious seems to have other plans however; when Riku walks towards the familiar corner to soak his feelings in alcohol, it all feels too familiar. Nothing has changed since the last time except the variation in who’s draping their drunk bodies over everything. The couch where he’d drunkenly fawned over Sora the first time sits empty, like it’s taunting him, and with an obstacle that annoying between him and the booze, Riku groans and turns around. Not tonight.

At least at the back he can’t see the stage as well, but he does have an unfortunate realization that the alcohol had contributed to his poor sight the previous time and everything seems far clearer than he wants it to now. Or maybe it’s simply his familiarity with Sora’s _everything_ that makes it so; how even despite their last encounter Riku can’t take his eyes off how Sora bounces around the stage, and how his usual necklace shines under the stage lights, how his smile still lights up the room better than any lighting could.

Fuck, this sucks.

At least he and Vanitas were so fashionably late that Riku only has to endure three songs before things wind down, and after the third, Roxas takes the mic, and drops the bomb on everyone. Major label, new album, huge tour. The crowd loses their minds.

Xion as well, bangs on the cymbals behind him and laughs when she knocks one over, earning her a supportive laugh from fans and a blown kiss from Namine, in the front row as always.

But then there’s Sora, who looks so downtrodden in comparison Riku wonders how no one else seems to notice, because Riku can’t see anything else. Drawn in just as he has been since the beginning, he inches his way up to the back of the tight crowd. He can’t break through them, but he isn’t up for trying to, at least satisfied with his place until he locks eyes with Sora, and based on the panicked look on Sora’s face, he can guess he’s close enough to be seen too.

“Riku!” Sora calls, only loud enough for Riku to hear because he’s looking right at him, reading his lips, and Sora carefully drops his guitar to the ground before pushing over towards Roxas, taking the mic from him, stand and all. “Riku, I love you!”

The crowd falls silent at first, with a few confused mutters, and Riku stares in awe. The audience’s eyes haven’t found him yet, but Riku’s throat tightens, unwilling or unable to shout for him despite the quiet.

“I was stupid,” Sora says, still into the mic, looking directly at him. “I started to like you too much and got scared of how much I’d care when you left and then I ended up being the one trying to bail.” Hesitantly, Sora looks back at Roxas, and at Xion, then back at Riku, with determination in his eyes. “Come with us.”

The crowd shifts from murmurs to gasps and a buzz that echoes in Riku’s ears without the ability to distinguish a single word of it, ears burning red and stomach ready to jump into his throat. The voices are getting louder, but only one makes sense in Riku’s head, and he looks right at Sora with certainty, yelling back before it’s too late, “I’m coming with you.”

The way Sora’s face lights up, Riku forgets any questions he may have had, and he’s suddenly bursting with a desire to hold Sora and kiss him, something Sora must understand too well as he appears antsy on the stage, looking for a way through the crowd to him. But there isn’t one.

With a sudden burst of vigor in his step, Sora whispers something in Roxas’ ear, and they both give a knowing nod to Xion, who spins each of her sticks in one hand and nods back. Within seconds Riku’s heart is as full as he could imagine it being, when he hears the same melody Sora had written because of him coming from Roxas’ guitar, simple accompaniment by Xion adding to the experience. The crowd gets into it, but Sora never picks up his own instrument, instead waiting until the song has hooked the crowd and throwing his arms up, taking a leap onto the crowd, which easily catches him and carries him for a surf.

Sora plays into it at first, and watching him has Riku genuinely smiling for the first time in days, until Sora reaches his goal point in the back, making sure those in the last rows get him to Riku, who pushes through just enough people to meet Sora face-to-face.

“Hey,” Sora grins, leaning his elbow on a stranger’s head.

“Hey,” Riku smiles back, and they exchange an understanding gaze, before Sora goes in for the kiss, letting the audience drop him when they start cheering, letting his feet his the floor and his body fall against Riku’s.

The chorus picks up, Roxas and Xion taking the song to a harder genre, and the crowd gets back into the grove of their celebration, leaving Sora and Riku in their own world to lose themselves in each other amongst them.

 

 

 

Riku is on his first piercing.

Right at his side as always, Namine is spinning around in her chair, dreamily muttering about a girl she’s fallen head-over-heels for. But it’s not just ‘some girl’ for Namine, it’s _the_ girl, and Riku has to admire how smitten she seems to be even after as long as she and Xion have been together.

Vanitas is cleaning Riku’s nose, readying the spot where he’ll soon be sending a needle through and smirking at how pale Riku gets seeing the needle in his hand. “It’s very important neither of you annoy me while I’m working or I’ll get blood everywhere.”

Riku groans at him, “Shouldn’t you be more worried about hurting me than you are about getting blood on anything?”

Vanitas shrugs. “You’ll live. I don’t like stains.”

“Ass,” Riku mutters, ready to get up and leave and call the whole thing off, but it’s then that Sora charges in and pulls up a chair right next to him, earnest in his fervent reach for Riku’s hand. “You’re just in time,” Riku teases.

“You knew I’d get here!” Sora says, bright but out of breath, both hands clutching Riku’s and preparing for his iron grip. “You sure you’re ready for this?”

Riku smiles at him, resting his other hand on top of Sora’s and locking eyes with him – though he would admit that’s mostly to have something to look at other than the needle. “Let’s do this,” he says, and Vanitas rolls his eyes, before shoving the needle through. To both their surprise, Riku doesn’t bleed, and he only yelps for the single second the needle is being pushed through his skin, though Sora does acknowledge his amusement with how tightly Riku grips his hands then.

“See? Easy,” Sora says, not thrown by the sight of such things anymore, and when Vanitas returns to put in the jewelry through, his eyes sparkle. “I told you you’d look hot with a nose ring,” he smirks, cocky.

“I do?” Riku perks up, taking a glance in the mirror Vanitas is lazily holding up for him.

“Nostril piercings look good on everyone,” Vanitas grins, but he does give Riku an approving nod, and takes a fake bow to acknowledge his own success.

“This is so cool of you Riku,” Sora whispers, having dropped one hand but kept the other entwined with Riku’s, just because he can. “I know you were against this for a long time.”

“It’s not so bad,” Riku realizes out loud, flicking the ring back and forth. He has a feeling he’ll be doing that for a while. “Besides, it’s only fair after what you did.”

“You have a point there,” Sora laughs, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt and showing off his newest tattoo, a permanent addition to his forearm of his own handwriting, where he’d written down the chords that Riku gave to him. “Worth it, though.”

“What’s with that tattoo, anyway?” Vanitas interjects. “I’ve tattooed over handwriting before but I didn’t get why you’d want that on you forever.”

“It’s...” Sora looks at Riku, and his smile softens. “Something just between us.”

Namine giggles. “Are you sure you should be getting a tattoo of an inside joke? Won’t you regret that if you ever break up?”

“Nah,” Sora shakes his head, eyes never leaving Riku’s. “He’s not going anywhere.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> this is for a collab with emmie/oathkeeping @ twitter. please make sure to check out the artwork she made to go along with this!


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